


Five Emotions Mike Made Rudy Miller Show (An A Very Long Summer story)

by calathea



Series: A Very Long Summer [5]
Category: I Want To Go Home! - Korman
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calathea/pseuds/calathea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the five things meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Emotions Mike Made Rudy Miller Show (An A Very Long Summer story)

Sam sat underneath a tree by the baseball diamond, doodling idly, half-listening to the game going on between Cabin Eighteen and Cabin Thirteen. He glanced up to watch for a few moments when a loud burst of shouting broke out.

It was a pretty typical scene. Rudy and Mike's campers were losing horribly, of course, but as usual seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely. Bob was umpiring the game, and seemed to be mid-dispute with a delegation of Cabin Thirteen campers, who were waving their arms dramatically at him and laughing. Bob shook his head at them, and said something, and the kids ran off back out onto the field, still laughing and shoving at one another. Rudy and Mike were on the sidelines assisting -- or at least Mike was, helping to settle a hard batter's cap on the head of a Cabin Eighteen camper before sending him out onto the field. Rudy was lying on his back in the sun on the Cabin Thirteen bench, one arm over his eyes, apparently oblivious to the game. Mike, duties completed, went to sit down, and after prodding Rudy in the ribs a couple of times to no effect, elected to sit on the ground, leaning his back against the bench by Rudy's hip.

Sam flipped over another page and started to sketch the two boys as Rudy rolled up onto his side, supporting his head on one arm. He could hear Mike laughing at whatever Rudy was telling him. After a minute or two, though, there was another outburst on the field, and Mike jumped up and ran over to see what was going on, while Rudy flopped back onto the bench in his 'sun worshipper' pose.

Chuckling, Sam pushed his pencil behind his ear. Some of the other counsellors bitched about Rudy because he never got excited, or laughed, or even really seemed interested in anything. Sam, with his artist's eye, knew better. He flipped through his sketchbook, picking out different pictures that showed Rudy's emotions.

**1\. Amusement**

Sam grinned at one picture he had drawn from memory. There had been some kind of incident a few days ago that he had never fully understood, but that had somehow involved Mike, the unexpected discovery of a large and aggravated beaver, a boggy patch of ground and three Cabin Thirteen campers, and that had resulted in Mike appearing suddenly out of the woods next to Cabin Eighteen more or less disguised a mud man. Sam, alerted by the screams of his own campers who had been taken by surprise by the creature in their midst, had rushed out to see Mike, covered in mud from head to toe, leaning heavily on Rudy and limping towards Cabin Thirteen while their campers trailed along behind.

"What happened?" Sam had yelled over.

"Mike decided to take advantage of the spa facilities," Rudy had replied, dodging the elbow Mike tried to shove into his ribs. "He lost a shoe and did something to his toe, but at least his skin will be petal-soft."

Sam had started laughing, despite Mike's glare. After a second though, Mike had started to grin too, his teeth white against his grimy skin, and then chuckle, wobbling on his good foot. Sam had captured that moment in his sketch, with Rudy holding up his laughing, muddy friend, his own lips turned up at the corners, and the younger boys convulsed in mirth behind them.

**2\. Protectiveness**

Sam had whiled away the long drive home from Silver Lake sketching. The cabins had swapped buses for the journey back, as Nick and Chuck been too impatient to wait for Cabin Thirteen to sort themselves out. The campers had been tired, and the trip was quiet. Walking along the aisle of the bus about half an hour into the trip to check on the campers, Sam had been caught by the image of Rudy and Mike, squashed up together on the long bench back seat of the bus. While he watched, Rudy had reached out to steady Mike's body as the bus lurched a little to one side, before smoothing down a corner of Mike's blanket.

Sam flipped back to that sketch, looking at the expression he'd shown, half-shadowed, on Rudy's face, as he guarded Mike's sleep.

**3\. Jealousy**

Sam turned over a few pages to a picture of Rudy on his own, his expression faintly frowning and downcast. He'd sketched it at the campfire one night, while he had been sitting with Mike, who had borrowed someone's Gameboy and was playing Tetris. Sam had been trying to capture the effect of the darkness and firelight on people's faces, but he'd been intrigued by the looks Rudy kept giving him. It was only when he had looked at the sketches the next morning that he'd worked out that Rudy was probably jealous that Mike had gravitated over to him, even though Sam knew it was only because Rudy and Bob had been talking about some sports thing when they all arrived at the campfire.

Sam grinned at the picture now. Even if Rudy knew which way Sam swung, he had no cause to be jealous. Mike was cute, sure, in a skinny, slightly dorky and perpetually ruffled sort of way, but he wasn't Sam's type.

**4\. Lust**

There was no doubt that Mike was _Rudy's_ type though. The flashes of pure heat in Rudy's eyes that Sam had sometimes caught a glimpse of weren't something he could draw, not without setting a piece of paper on fire to illustrate. Rudy was no more Sam's type than Mike was, but Sam was pretty sure that if _anyone_ looked at him the way Rudy sometimes looked at Mike, he'd drag them off to the nearest flat surface regardless of their "type".

**5\. Ineffable**

Sam smirked as he flipped over a few more sheets. The main reason Sam wasn't teasing Mike daily about tearing up the sheets with Rudy (or, well, he probably _did_ tease Mike about it daily, it was just that Mike didn't notice) was that the most common expression he'd found himself drawing onto Rudy's face was one that almost defied description. It wasn't quite frustration, not really despair, maybe a bit of irritation mixed up with a large dollop of hope, but probably an equal amount of exasperation. Most of all though, it was something that Sam would have described, if only he hadn't been talking about _Rudy Miller_, as _longing_.

A sudden howl from the baseball diamond made him drop his sketchbook. Bob was signalling to him frantically from the field, and even Rudy had abandoned his sunbathing to jog over to the origin of the noise. Picking up the sketchbook, Sam stuffed it quickly in his bag, pulling out his first aid kit instead, and ran onto the field.


End file.
